Good to Love
by nerd4music
Summary: Cherishing those early hours and the quiet of their most intimate moments. Mornings were best spent wrapped up in her.
**AN:** Hey there. I'm not new to writing or fanfiction, but this is my first venture into Richonne territory. It's also a product of procrastinating on other projects I should be working on, and listening to FKA Twigs. So you know, here we are. It was a personal writing challenge, to keep this dialogue-free. It's my headcanon that these two aren't big talkers during intimate moments, considering how much they tend to convey with looks and silent action. It's a quiet kind of intensity that I really dig and naturally it'd carry over into sex. Canon-wise, this falls sometime around East. You know, before the shit hits the fan.

Anyway, I've rambled enough. Happy Reading. And as always, I don't own the characters, but the thoughts and sexy shit is all mine.

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Mornings were best spent wrapped up in her. It was amazing, just how quickly he'd come to appreciate the shift. The excitement it brought, how it radiated through him as she slept at his side. The unparalleled peace of it all, necessary in a world where the dead walked and the living warred with one another for survival. But there, nestled between clean sheets with his arm snaked tightly around her slender frame, it was so easy to simply...be.

Before the day called for waking. Hungry kids to be fed. Expansion plans to approve, and other tasks to ensure Alexandria's continued progress. It pulled him in different directions, leaving them all bone weary, but hopeful for the community's future. It pleased him, just how well they'd managed to come together and move their little town forward, and he was sure a great deal of that was due to the woman at his side. They worked in tandem, her cool logic balancing out his often-heated temper, offering him a moment's pause to consider all avenues and weigh pros and cons, a slight change up from his typical impulsiveness. Hellfire and Ice. The term had been tossed around by Abraham in a scotch-soaked moment, causing the others to laugh at the pair, who simply shrugged off the teasing, accurate as it was.

The more they spoke, beyond food inventory and weapons training, or the other mundane aspects that'd taken over their lives in the settled community, the more his hunger grew. Out there, beyond walls and surviving on high alert, there were few opportunities for small talk. There, it was food and fight, contending with walkers and the inner demons that plagued them both. But they had a home now. And learning one another became part of their evening routine.

After dinner and baths and the typical nighttime rush. When they were the only ones awake, sprawled on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table as they unpacked their day, The end of the world seemingly on pause while they discussed whatever came to mind, conversations moving seamlessly from deep to playful. He was greedy for the facts she shared, tidbits of the former life that was glamorous in its mystery. And she was equally as fascinated.

To him, the goings on of a small-town sheriff seemed paltry in comparison to hers, the passionate way she spoke about gallery openings and the art collections she'd been personally responsible for as a corporate consultant for a renowned curating firm, but she listened with rapt attention when he recalled stories of raising hell in his teenage years with his best friend, and summers spent working in his grandparents' restaurant as the world's clumsiest server. He laughed at her laughter, the sensual husk of it causing a thrilling shiver to race down his spine, warmth blossoming in his belly, leaving him with a feeling that could only be described as euphoric. There, on that couch, as in every other aspect of their relationship, they were equals.

It'd been so long since he'd done this sort of thing. The last time he'd courted someone, he'd been a nervous eighteen year old, fingers working to pin a corsage to the dress of the beautiful girl who would eventually become his wife. Safe to say he'd been out of practice long before the old world faded away. And although he didn't have a clear outline of modern wooing, this certainly didn't fit the bill. But that same jittery energy remained, bringing a youthful flush to cheeks under impressive scruff when their lips met in that first kiss, equal parts surprising and yet completely natural. It was a good nervous. A thrilling one, her vibe matching his almost perfectly. He hummed at the taste of it, as sweet as the smile that refused to fade from plush lips when he pulled her closer, sinking between strong thighs as they explored this new and exciting step in their relationship. While the afterglow of their first time had been short lived, thanks to the long-haired intruder with the curiously strange biblical nickname and the rest of their family all up in their business, he was determined to make the most of their moments together.

In the old world, he supposed their paths would have likely never crossed. It was strange to think about. Pale fingers traced light circles at the base of her spine and he smiled at the impossibility of such a notion, not knowing her. Shit had shifted once more for them. If he were being honest (and he saw no reason to not be, it was still very early and he was half-awake, anyway), the nature of their relationship had been slowly changing for some time, starting with a tension that didn't feel wholly antagonistic and moving into something that was too significant, too weighty for a title like friendship.

It seemed then, after spending that first night together, an air of 'finally', in all of it. The concept of soulmates had been foolish to him, even before the dead roamed the earth. They had full lives before, with loves that had felt like forever and losses they'd carried like spectors. Falling again, opening up and experiencing a different kind of intimacy seemed like too high a gamble now. But the ease in which they slipped into a deeper bond felt like a rarity. Precious and worth protecting. A found gem in the midst of chaos after wading through grief and despondency. The rational man in him didn't put too much stock in fate. He simply held tight to the gift he'd been given, and would cut down anyone who'd attempt to wrest it away. She was his, and he was hers.

The sun was rising now, faint traces of light peeking through sheer curtains, and he gazed down, dazed by the serene look etched in striking features while she slept. It was a sound slumber, though he knew with the smallest shift, she'd wake. In their nightly chats, he discovered that was a recent development. A rational one, considering how long she'd spent out there on the road, with nothing but pain and walkers as her companions.

Deep sleep was a killer out there, but as he leaned in to brush a kiss to the corner of her mouth, Rick knew getting a few more winks in was the last thing on _his_ mind. Still, she'd managed not to stir, so he tried another tactic, knowing touch was always a good way to get a reaction. Her smooth skin was like rich earth, the rough, pale pads of his battle worn hands ghosting over taut limbs, strength wrapped in silk. He couldn't help but admire her. The soft hairs of his beard moved against her when he trailed kisses from her cheeks to her mouth. He felt her smile and the sharp nip of her teeth as she returned the good morning greeting, hands wandering into his curls to keep him in place, though moving away was the last thing on his mind.

His hand slipped from the small of her back and settled on the generous curve of her derriere while his free hand caressed her cheek, fingers curling at the nape of her neck. Full lips, thick and brown and tasting faintly of spearmint and apples parted with a moan, the sound causing a deep twinge between his legs and Rick returned with a low groan of his own. It was always easy, getting lost in her lips. His body buzzed from it, desire stirring thick and sluggish in the pit of his stomach feeling like the warmest, most potent of whiskey. It made him greedy, the growl of pleasure rumbling in his chest, and yet there was no urging. No rush. Just the sweetness of her lips and the sounds he coaxed from them, heady groans stirring the growing bulge that tented thin bedsheets.

He loved her fire, the way she gave just as much, teasing him with gentle nips, sucking at the cupid's curve of his upper lip until he practically whimpered from the deep twinge it sent between his legs. Every encounter was a chance to explore, to learn tics and turn-ons, and many an early morning hour had been wiled away like this one, meeting the sun with his name nothing but a tender whisper slipping from perfect, parted lips while their bodies moved in sync.

Michonne liked his hair, forever seeking out the thick, chestnut curls, needing something steady to hold onto once his own hands began to wander, teasing dark nipples into stiff peaks before eventually settling between silky thighs. His thumb made steady circles around her button, drawing more sighs and harder tugs of his hair that only encouraged him, switching up the rhythm from teasing to torturous as she practically melted into him, cream coating skilled fingers, the heat between them building with every stroke and he knew she'd eventually put them both out of their misery by taking the reins.

Which he absolutely loved. The press of her warmth against where he wanted her most, the soaked glide of her sex causing him to moan her name when she finally straddled his lap, riding the ridge of him as she uttered sweet praises between messy, heated kisses.

Sitting up, Rick grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist, knowing just how much she enjoyed having him close. Soft breasts pressed against the firm plane of his chest, and his arm curled tight around her middle, lifting her with ease just as she snaked a hand between them. It was her turn to tease, keeping her slackened grip feather light just to watch the flutter of his lids as he worked to restrain the sounds threatening to slip out, though he failed miserably when her thumb grazed his sensitive crown, already sticky with want and Rick moaned at the heat-filled shudder that shook his shoulders.

The swat to her ass was pure reflex, dusky lips twitching into a cocky smirk at her gasp, though his victory was short lived once their bodies were joined, the thrust of slender hips sinking down in one fluid motion causing both of them to cry out. Surrounded by her scent, he savored the moment and the tight clench of her walls, leaving him a little breathless as his gaze met hers, fixated on the soft flutter of lids once her hips began to move. It was a gentle rock at first, a slow smirk tugging at her lips, bordering on smug when he was the one to break first, his appreciation tumbling out in deep, gravelly moan.

Calloused palms roamed her body, fingers curling against rich skin that glowed like the deepest bronze the more she moved against him, hips lifting in an upwards rock only to hit a downward stroke that left them both gasping for air. They were never big on words during sex, preferring the greedy sounds exchanged between intimate looks and wandering touches. He trailed open mouth presses from her lips, a possessive growl burning his throat when he marked her, sucking scarlet roses into the slender curve of her neck, and grinning inwardly at the smoky rasp of her moans.

Michonne's fingers tightened in his hair, the tug and pain of it all curling his toes while he lifted his head, knowing she wanted his lips again. Their kisses were rougher this time, her hand slipping to grip the back of his neck as slender hips rolled harder. Rick's hand palmed her ass once more, his hold greedy and his thrusts meeting hers, grunting when she hit a bounce and her center clenched him ever tighter. He didn't have to urge her release; he knew she was close from the faint trembles in her thighs, and he pushed a hand between them, sliding between their sweat-slicked bodies to seek out that damp heat, thick fingers strumming her button. Blue eyes darkened at the sight of her, kiss-swollen lips parting with another moan, this one louder than the others, but he didn't care, not when she was making him feel so damn good, the flutters from her release pushing him towards his own, his vision practically blurring from the pleasure of it all, but he could barely look away from the graceful arch of her back as she slipped into that haze of bliss.

He cradled her to him, arms circling tight around her middle, his head dropping to her shoulder as he fucked her through the climax, thrusting upwards and coming undone with strangled gasp. Michonne's hand sifted through his hair, pushing the damp curls from his face as they settled quietly into the comedown. His heart thumped wildly, and Rick loosened his embrace just enough to catch her lips when she turned her head slightly.

A slim ray of sun peeked through the curtains, the light catching the flecks of gold and copper in dark brown eyes, her gaze filled so much love, it warmed him all over. There was no need for the words, knowing his touch would be just enough in the moment, but it didn't stop him anyway, whispering the epithet in a tender kiss that gave way to leisurely presses while they savored the dwindling moments of their privacy.

They knew they'd have to part soon, their regular morning routine looming close. Children to wake, breakfasts to make, and more work to ensure the safety of their friends and community. But there, in the early hours, with the sun streaming in, and her nestled in his arms, he was determined to make every minute count.


End file.
